Page 175 of Wrath of the Fae

The more time I spend around the well-to-do and elite Fae, the more I know I’m not the delicate rose of a queen they all expect me to be.

The sky rumbles. I blink up at it, my insides twisting with unease.

That tear is terrifying. It oozes with power. A twisted, unnatural and sick kind of power that makes my body react the same as when I sense lies. I taste it on my tongue and feel it on my skin.

Some winged warriors fly around it, following the rip in the sky and shouting far-off instructions to one another.

I know what they fear. I fear it too.

When will that tear spread and steal us away?

Reid stands behind me, his fingers slowly trailing up and down my arm as he looks out at the Kingdom with me. His lips are warm on my neck as he leisurely kisses my skin.

‘Glad to see I can still give you goosebumps,’ he mutters.

I don’t have the heart to tell him it’s the rip making my skin erupt as is it is. I don’t want him to stop touching me.

My fingers run through his hair and I gasp as I feel an overwhelming sense of sadistic joy through the Bond.

‘Cyrus?’ he asks, his face still buried in my neck.

‘He’s having fun,’ I reply, leaning back into Reid. His arm wraps around my waist. ‘I wish I could go down there with him.’

‘We get to play first. You promised.’

‘I regret making that promise,’ I huff. His hand goes down to the top of the slit in my dress and slides beneath the silk. I moan with a smile as he places his fingers between my legs.

‘Hmmm. Just how I like you,’ he smirks, feeling my slickness.

His fingers caress my entrance and tease my clit.

I get another pang of that cruel satisfaction from Cyrus.

He’s in the cells. Playing.

With Jonah.

I kept that fucker protected from the dragon’s flame purely so we could keep him for sport.

And we caught him.

We have Jonah in chains, locked in the cells.

And Cyrus is having the time of his life with him.

My hand grips the balcony as Reid sinks his fingers inside me.

‘What do you plan on doing to him?’ I ask.

‘That’s not for a lady to hear.’

‘Tell me,’ I pant.

He laughs deeply. ‘This your new foreplay, Little Bird? Okay then.’ Another finger. ‘Every bone will break. Every limb twisted. All flesh burnt. Cut. Torn. Salt will be rubbed into his wounds. His tongue torn from his mouth. His teeth pulled free. His eyes carved out.’

‘Can I watch?’

He chuckles a beautifully dark laugh.

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